


Deep Zone

by blackazuresoul



Category: Trinity Blood
Genre: Blood, Churches & Cathedrals, Dark, Implied Incest, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-13
Updated: 2012-07-13
Packaged: 2017-11-09 21:09:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/458443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackazuresoul/pseuds/blackazuresoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cain contemplates his brother's corpse. God is denied. (Animeverse) </p>
<p>Drabblefic to get the muses going. Perhaps this one will get an expansion in future!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deep Zone

The heavy bells in the north tower were stilled of their pealing as a select few mourners filed out of the church in which Abel Nightroad lay in state, his casket strewn with red roses. Cardinal Sforza had sent her emissary to attend the small service while she coordinated a more fitting tribute for her agent and friend in Rome.  
  
Tiny candles wavered below a statue of Mary to the left of the rood alcove and Londinium’s setting sun cast its dying rays through the stained glass arches behind the altar. From the shadows, Cain emerged; his white garments flowing behind the measured steps he took upon a red aisle runner, his blue eyes trained on the large mahogany box ahead.  
  
“Oh, Abel. Would you be pleased with the destruction of so many blooms on your behalf?” Cain murmured softly as he approached the casket. Brushing aside his cloak, he lowered to a knee on the carpeted riser and selected a thorny stalk. Cain brought the delicate flower to his nose, quietly inhaling its perfume then let the rose carelessly drop from his hand, a fingertip now tracing the gold leaf design perched on the casket lid. “Such pomp doesn’t suit you, my brother,” he whispered and violently shoved the lid from its housing.  
  
His hands curled over the lip of the casket and Cain peered down into the slumbering visage of his twin. Abel’s platinum hair lay neatly bound with a black silk ribbon over his left shoulder and the vestments of both his profession and faith immaculately dressed him.

In his haste, Cain had sought to kill his brother, to deal with anyone who interfered with his ambition. But as much as he’d always denied it, he needed Abel; needed his opposition. Seth surely wouldn’t be a challenge to his ideals– his plans of a New Empire where he was sovereign and god.

  


Lilith was a consummate fool.

Abel never understood the power he held as a Crusnik, a innate power that elevated them beyond the common Methuselah but at least _they_ had the good graces to recognise that fact. Cain was _Contra Mundi_ to the ignorant; _Mein Herr_ to the smart. Abel could have had that too. Somewhere in his years among the Terrans, the priest had lost his true nobility, enlisting his subservience to the Vatican of all things. Cain could appreciate the hypocrisy of a Crusnik walking the holy halls where Popes had tread for centuries and passed edicts to exterminate anyone not ‘of God’. But he felt perhaps that irony was lost on Abel in his want to atone for some imagined slight on Terrankind.

Cain again looked down at his sibling and ran the tips of gloved fingers along Abel’s firm jaw with a thin smile. “And to think you formerly wished destruction on those you serve. You used to be so full of indignation and loathing, _Father_ – I miss that of you,” Cain remarked and drew his fingertips along the silver beaded rosary Abel wore. He hooked the thinner section above the stylised crucifix at his brother’s waist and lifted it, eyes shifting to gaze down on the item. A soft snort blasted from Cain’s nose and he dropped the cross with a moue of disgust. “You always did like being a martyr,” he added and looked up at the suspended cross just above them with a sigh, returning his gaze to Abel. “I long for your contempt again, brother. How senseless I was to think otherwise; o dark to my light.”

He rose to his feet with Abel held against him, pliant and cool. He smelled of the roses and a sweet balm someone used to smooth his long hair. As Cain laid him down on the steps of the alcove, he recalled how much he liked the soft fall that crowned his sibling’s head and how Abel once cut it short in nothing but spite. “Come then. Let us continue to hate, my dear Abel,” Cain breathed along the priest’s cool lips then turned his head to bite into his own wrist. Dark blood oozed from the wound and Cain carefully wedged his wrist between Abel’s lips, watching several drops fall onto his still tongue. As he removed his hand, a single tear of blood dropped at the corner of Abel’s mouth and Cain’s gloved thumb smeared it along his sibling’s lips, tinting the flesh a deep red.

Cain’s piercing eyes gazed on the reddened lips, licking his own, and dipped his head to bring them closer to Abel’s. His cool breath ghosted along them and the tip of his tongue followed to divest Abel’s lips of the crimson stain. Cain’s breath grew shallow and quiet as the flavor of his own essence and that of Abel mingled to be tasted. The scent of his brother, along with the perfume of roses and balm mixed a seductive cocktail to the elder’s nose and Cain’s hand carefully held Abel’s head as he completed the press of their lips.

His tongue caressed further into the depths of his dead twin’s mouth, smearing the blood within along Abel’s fangs. _Brother,_ Cain whispered into his mind. _Awaken unto me_. Cain’s free hand smoothed down the finely-tailored frockcoat Abel wore to once again toy with the rosary. The sharp points of the cross ribs bit into Cain’s palm and he smiled against Abel’s lips then closed his fist around the emblem of faith, driving the ribs into the flesh of his own hand. The metal bent in Cain’s hold and he breathed a pleasured sigh into his sibling’s partially open mouth, platinum lashes fluttering closed as his eyes rolled back.

In flashes, Cain could see images of he and Abel. Their craft had hovered just above the planet’s atmosphere and Lilith, ensconsed in her plush chair, watched them play, Seth sleeping contentedly in her arms. Then times years past that where the twins would share a bed, eventually learning what it meant to truly _share_.  
As blood stained Cain’s white glove and his lips and tongue continued to explore Abel’s mouth, Cain tangibly felt the memories of his hands on Abel’s white skin, the coolness of his flesh– even where it was thought to be the warmest. The dulcet sound of Abel’s voice in the bonds of painful pleasure echoed through Cain’s head and he cut his tongue on the younger man’s fang, bringing him back to the present.

Cain found himself painfully hard, panting softly and the palm of his glove dyed a deep crimson. He sighed into Abel’s mouth and leaned back to remove the ruined garment. His bare hand hovered over Abel’s heart and Cain closed his eyes, willing his consciousness into the corpse below him. Pale blue eyes levered open as Cain mentally finished the spell and he watched Abel’s face, his gaze falling to the rise of his throat as he waited for a pulse that had yet to come.

“Abel. Do not deny me,” he growled deeply, his hand worming beneath Abel’s coat and shirt to press his bloody palm against the skin. Cain licked his lips and took in a quick breath. “Do not deny me!” he loudly ground out, his fingers curling to threaten blunt nails along the pale skin. His voice echoed through the Sanctuary and he slowly blinked, a soft blast of a chuckle escaping his lips. Cain straightened Abel’s vestments and left the rosary cross– bent and nearly broken– dotted with his blood. He again picked up his sibling and placed him back into the wooden casket then crouched to pick up another red bloom, remaining silent. He stood to full height and let the velvet blossom flirt with his lower lip then let it fall from his hand onto Abel’s chest.  
He had replaced the lid of the coffin and whirled around to retrace his steps down the carpeted runner, a sinistre smile tearing across his face.

 

Perhaps some things were best left to rot.


End file.
